


Judith

by sasha_b



Series: Live By The Sword [33]
Category: King Arthur (2004), Original Work
Genre: Live By The Sword, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2434892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance names his club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Judith

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during high school.

Footsteps bounded up Arthur's stairs; his head swivled away from his homework, frown on his face. "Mom, seriously, you know I have two tests tomorrow," he sighed, uncoiling from the bed and unlocking his door.

"I think I've figured it out."

Lance came inside, shutting Arthur's door. He was sweating, his face shiny and happy, and he was dressed in some leather pants Arthur'd never seen before. Cocking an eyebrow, Arthur relocked the door.

"How'd you get in?"

"You think your dad remembers to bolt your door?" came the snarky reply. Lancelot flung himself onto Arthur's bed, all his papers and precious work flying every which way.

"Lance - Christ!" Arthur cried, feeling slightly guilty for the curse, diving for his things. "I'm going to fail these classes if I don't study -"

Snorting, Lance shoved even more books out of his way, digging around in his back pocket for his mobile phone.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say. Look," he said, showing Arthur the screen. "I've figured it out."

Arthur, giving up the ghost and rolling his eyes, joined the other boy on his bed. "Figured what out?" he sighed.

"The club name! Jesus, Castus, what have we been talking about for weeks now?"

The sudden huffiness in Lancelot's voice made Arthur smile. "Do you mean what _you've_ been babbling to me about while I've been studying and cooking for mom?"

Lance did sober up at that. "Arthur - sorry. I forgot - "

Arthur just shook his head. "It's okay. I did manage to catch a few moments this afternoon - she's feeling better, I think. I had to laugh, though. She told me once when I was a baby the only time she could sleep was when I was asleep. So I guess turnabout's fair play, huh?" He tried to make light of his mother's illness, but Lancelot knew better. He didn't argue with Arthur, however, and merely smiled in return.

"Good. How'd the lasagna turn out, by the way?"

"Excellently. I'm not telling her the recipe came from your dad, though. She'd kick my ass into next week."

Lance laughed, the band of tightness that had snugged around his heart loosening somewhat. He was happy to see Arthur's expression soften. "So, look," he commented again, shoving the small player at Arthur. "Watch this video and tell me what you think."

Arthur took the phone in his hands and watched Maynard Keenan sing about Christ and the spear of destiny.

"This is an old song," he said when it was finished, handing the phone back to Lance. "What did you want me to say about it?" He sounded grumpy, even to his own ears. He never had really "gotten" that song. He wasn't sure if Maynard was trying to get a point across - or if he had just been trying to sound alternatively cool.

"How perfect is that name? 'A Perfect Circle,'" Lancelot gushed, his face lighting up. "It fits great."

"The song is called _Judith_ , Lance," Arthur replied tetchily. "That might be a cool club name - although it might bring in a few more drag queens than you want."

Lancelot sat up and frowned; his pants made a strange noise as he folded his legs under where he sat on the bed. He pocketed the phone.

"Shit, Arthur. Sorry I bugged you with it. I just thought you might be happy I finally made a decision," he barked a laugh, darker than normal. "And don't fucking answer that."  He was quiet, arms going 'round his knees. Arthur's eyes ticked to the ceiling, then back at his friend. He rolled his lips inward, contrite after seeing the hurt in Lance's brown eyes.

Arthur moved his hand, placing the fingers over Lance's shiny black leg. He rubbed slowly, noting the other boy still wasn't looking at him. At last Lancelot deined to slump somewhat and relaxed his shoulders.

"What _are_ these pants?" Arthur asked quietly, smiling.

"They're new," Lance answered automatically, eyes sliding to Arthur's. "They look okay?" He moved a tad closer to Arthur on the bed.

Arthur laughed. "You know I don't need to answer that," he said, removing his hand from Lance's leg. He had to swallow in order to speak again. "And I realize they're new, idiot. I just meant where'd they come from."

"Guinevere," the other boy said. "She never goes to the Beverly Center without bringing me something."

He slid a little closer still, and grabbed Arthur's hand. He placed it back on his leg, smirking. "That makes me feel sleepy. Do it again," he demanded.

Arthur's head tilted back with his chuckle, but he noticed he didn't say no. He made little circles with his fingers on Lancelot's tightly incased flesh. "Yes, they look fine," he finally replied. "You going out?"

"Uh huh," came the groggy answer. Lance's eyes were closed, and his head was lolling on his neck. He dropped it to rest on Arthur's shoulder. "Gonna go check on the construction progress, then to the strip," he said quietly. "Guin's got some friend in town, Elaine? She wanted to show her around."

Arthur briefly felt affronted that he hadn't been asked to go, but then pushed that thought away. He wasn't really a club person. Maybe once Lance opened his own place, he'd reconsider.

He moved his hand from the other boy's leg and wrapped it around his waist. "Go," he sighed against Lancelot's temple, the air from his words puffing Lancelot's curls. "I'm sure they're waiting for you."

"Hmm," Lance agreed, but didn't move. "Arthur," he said softly after a moment, "you sure you're doing okay with your mom?"

Arthur didn't speak right away, surprised into silence by Lance's question. He squeezed Lance's waist, then unwound himself. He stood and went to the door, unlocking it. "I am," he replied, flashing a false smile. "Go on, Lance," he said. "I'm sure Guinevere's about to throw a fit by now."

Lance stood as well, his new pants clinging to his lithe form. "You sure? 'Cause I can send Dimitri over any time. He's a magician in the kitchen -"

"No," Arthur answered quickly. His father wouldn't react to help from the Benoit's too well - despite the fact it came from Lancelot and not Roland.

"Thanks, though," he added. Lance merely nodded and moved through Arthur's opened door. He smiled at Arthur, a genuine show of teeth that made Arthur want to sigh and give himself over to his friend's whims. One day - it just might be nice to see what it was like to allow someone else some modicum of control -

"See you later, okay?" Lance was saying, and Arthur's focus snapped back to him. He nodded in agreement.

"Can I catch a ride in the morning?" he asked. "I'll be up early, for mom."

"Of course, Arthur," Lance said, his hand rising, his fingers brushing Arthur's cheekbone once, then slipping to touch his hair, quickly. "See ya," he repeated, his hand dropping. He bounded down the stairs, leaving a whiff of fragrance and leather and musky something.

Arthur leaned his head on his doorframe, and watched until even the notion of the other boy was gone.

 


End file.
